Page 46 of Desire Me
His parents couldn’t have been more horrified if Rae had been their own child, and the response only made him love them more.
He cut through the exclamations and questions. “Mamá, maybe you could take Rae out on the deck for a little sun?” The walls on either side would protect them from the December wind. He rubbed a hand along Rae’s spine. “A little fresh air while I clean up breakfast?”
“A little tip, dear,” his mother said, rising from the island. “When they offer to clean up, always say yes.”
Rae chuckled. “In that case…”
As Saint went into the living room to grab his mother’s coat and one for Rae, he heard his father add, “Don’t let her fool you, Rae. She taught us all well. Mis bebés and I always clean up. It’s a small price to pay for suchfantásticocooking.”
When they were alone in the kitchen, Saint’s father waved him away as he went to gather the dishes. “I’ll scrape; you wash, hijo.”
“Deal.” They fell into a familiar rhythm as they cleaned the kitchen, the sound of the women talking and laughing filtering in from the patio. It was a thoroughly domestic scene, one Saint would never have expected to be a part of a month ago, but the contentment he felt at the moment was surprisingly good. The real question was, how long could he get it to last? How long did he want it to last?
He knew the answer deep in his gut: he wanted it to last a very, very long time.
As if he could read Saint’s mind—and he probably could—his father said carefully, “She’s a lovely woman, hijo.”
“And it’s more than just skin-deep,” Saint agreed.
“I can see that.” His father picked up a coffee mug to dry. “Mercedes mentioned that she’s had some trouble.”
Saint dropped his sponge into the dishwater. “She shouldn’t have—”
His father held up a hand. “She didn’t go into detail.”
She couldn’t; she didn’t know any details. But even knowing his family swapped information like boys swapped Pokémon cards, the idea of them all discussing Rae scraped at his nerves. “She’s not fodder for gossip, Papá.”
His father gripped his arm, snagging his full attention. “No, she’s not. We can see as much. It’s just as your sister told us. She’s someone special to you, isn’t she?”
Saint met the intent gaze without flinching. “She is. More than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“More special than that Tina Johnson you took to prom your sophomore year?” his father asked, a glint of teasing in his eyes.
Saint had lost his virginity to Tina, a fact he had no doubt his parents had suspected. How to get his father to understand…
Rae wasn’t like anyone in his life, ever. “I want her to be mine,” he finally said.
Light dawned in his father’s eyes, and he nodded, satisfied. “Then do whatever you need to, to keep her with you.”
But Saint suspected that the one thing he needed to do, tell Rae the truth, might be the one thing that would tear them apart.
Chapter Twenty-Two
His parents stayed about an hour, leaving just before his team arrived. By mutual agreement they took the day off from their search into Rae’s past, for two reasons: one, no matter what they found, Rae wasn’t recovered enough to travel, so anything they uncovered couldn’t be acted on yet; and two, the PI they’d contacted was still digging. Discretely, obviously, but relational connections and personalities couldn’t be understood through Internet research. They needed a more intimate understanding of the town, Rae’s family, and their lives before they could move on any of it. For now, keeping Rae as well as their digging under wraps was the best plan to keep her safe. And to give her mind time to recover her memory.
“I like your family,” Rae said that evening after everyone finally left.
Saint toyed idly with a curl as she leaned against his shoulder. They were curled up on the sofa facing the fireplace, her body tucked close under his arm. “Somehow I don’t think you’d agree if you had my parents and all four older sisters digging into your business.”
Rae snorted lightly. “I imagine not.”
She was staring at the fire, and he was staring at her, which was how he saw her amusement fade into something more pensive. More sad. He tugged on the curl. “Hey, what is it?”
A faint, fake smile flashed across her face. “Nothing.”
Saint twisted toward her and pulled her to face him, tugging her legs over his lap. “Rae, there’s nothing you can’t tell me, you know that, right?”
“A few days ago I would have said I didn’t know you well enough to believe that, but now…”
